Sad news. The contrarian journalist, pro-Iraq war polemicist, and outspoken atheist, Christopher Hitchens, has been diagnosed with cancer of the oesophagus. I disagree with him on most things, except Orwell and waterboarding (the first he approved of, the second he proved was dreadful). I wish him a full and speedy recovery. I had terrible problems with my oesophagus last year, but have managed to overcome most of those issues (for now, at least). This is more serious, but I can empathise - discomfort of the gullet is terrible, and can be terrifying.
A poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.
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